


New Beginnings

by kcstories



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon Divergence, Community: hd_falling, Getting Together, Happy Ending, M/M, Merry Month Of May Fest, Romance, college fic, post—hogwarts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-05-28
Updated: 2007-05-28
Packaged: 2018-07-23 20:00:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7477962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kcstories/pseuds/kcstories
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A few years after Hogwarts, Harry starts afresh at a new college. Things seem very promising until he meets his roommate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	New Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> **Pairing:** Harry/Draco (others mentioned)  
>  **Rating:** NC-17. The author is not responsible for underage readers.  
>  **Warnings:** AU-ish, fluff, explicit sexual content.  
>  **A/N:** The Potterverse is JKR's, not mine.

When Harry thinks about it, this was really all Hermione’s idea.  
  
Five years after defeating the Dark Lord (though more and more people are calling him by his chosen name these days, if only out of principle) and four years after finishing Hogwarts, he is finally ready and able to get on with his life.  
  
That includes continuing his education at a specialised Magical Academy at the heart of Northern Europe.  
  
On his first day there (which happens to be the first of January not September, because they do things differently at Grimholt College), he walks into the spacious room he’ll be sharing with a fellow student.  
  
Before he enrolled, Harry contemplated requesting a single room, which would have been provided to him easily, at a small surcharge, but in the end, he decided that, perhaps, he might enjoy the company of a roommate more.  
  
After all, he spent more than enough time in solitude these past few years, and on the whole, it didn't bring him the peace of mind he’d hoped to attain.  
  
It didn't give him much of anything really, except plenty of loneliness.  
  
With a swift flick of his wand, Harry un-shrinks his luggage and levitates its contents into one of the two large wardrobes.  
  
He throws himself down on the bed that happens to be the closest to him, and sighs happily.  
  
There isn’t a single doubt in his mind that a fresh start will do him the world of good.  
  
Unfortunately, though, his optimism doesn’t last for very long.  
  
Mere minutes later, the door opens, and the moment he catches sight of the person who walks in, Harry almost shrieks. Except, he doesn’t of course, because he’s not that much of a girl (really), but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s shocked as hell.  
  
None other than Draco Malfoy is standing there, immaculately dressed and looking every bit like he owns the place.  
  
_He doesn’t, does, he?_ Harry wonders warily, and the thought only serves to unsettle him more.  
  
“Potter?” the former Slytherin exclaims, clearly aghast to the point where he almost drops his expensive-looking suitcases.  
  
Harry blinks. _Well,_ he thinks resignedly, _I suppose this serves me right for assuming I’d actually have a normal, uneventful school year for a change._  


* * *

  
  
After the initial shock, it doesn’t take them long to remember who they are or how strongly they despise one another, even after all these years.  
  
“What the hell are _you_ doing here, Malfoy?” Harry snaps.  
  
Draco crosses his arms and replies, “I enrolled, obviously _._ ”  
  
Harry sneers. “Daddy’s money bought you a place then, did it?”  
  
“Don’t you ever dare to refer to my father in such a manner again, Potter!” Draco shoots back, a dark look now marring his features.  
  
Harry isn’t the least bit intimidated. “Why not?” he challenges mockingly. “What’s the matter, Malfoy? Touched a nerve, did I? Don’t you find a dead parent quite so amusing when it’s your own?”  
  
Draco throws him another venomous glare, but to Harry’s surprise, he lets the taunt slide. “If you really must know,” he says airily instead, “I passed the entrance exams with flying colours. And aside from that, this seemed like an adequate enough institution to start anew.”  
  
“Right.” Harry huffs. “As if someone like you even deserves a new start, with everything you have on your conscience – assuming you’ve even got a conscience, that is! And after all the horrible crap you’ve pulled...”  
  
“If you recall, Potter,” Draco points out. “I was proven innocent, cleared of all charges!”  
  
"No, Malfoy.” Harry shakes his head. “The Wizengamot simply didn't have enough hard evidence to put you away."  
  
Draco shrugs. "Same difference,” he says nonchalantly. He puts his suitcases down, mutters some kind of spell, and while his clothes levitate and arrange themselves into the wardrobe, he casually walks out the door.  


* * *

  
  
Nine weeks pass. Harry thinks it’s surprising how time flies, even when you’re not having all that much fun.  
  
He soon found out he and Malfoy ended up roommates because they’re the same age - slightly older than the average first year, and because they used to attend the same school.  
  
The people in charge automatically assumed the two of them were old school chums; a mistake that would be amusing, almost cute even, if it weren’t so painfully far from the bitter truth.  
  
Harry often wonders why Malfoy still hasn’t requested to be moved to a private room. He certainly has the means to afford one. The Ministry didn’t touch a Knut of the Malfoy fortune. Narcissa’s legal team saw to that. She and her son remain as untouchable today as they ever were.  
  
Harry doesn’t know Draco is in fact yearning to ask him a similar question, but simply doesn’t think it appropriate to do so.  
  
Harry supposes this must be some test of wills, a twisted experiment to see who’ll bend, break or flee first in this unspoken ‘you don’t affect me in the slightest’ contest.  
  
But truth be told, Harry is fast getting sick and tired of being glared at, and he’s becoming increasingly fed up with the silent hostility too.  
  
Wasn’t this meant to be a new beginning? It certainly didn’t turn out that way. Instead, the past seems to have come back to haunt him, or at the very least, slap him in the face and kick him in the groin at regular intervals.  
  
One night, after two hours of loaded silence that are the result of yet another heated argument, Harry tentatively suggests a truce.  
  
To his amazement, Draco is quick to accept.  
  
They shake hands to seal the agreement, even though, honestly, Harry doesn’t expect things to get any better after that. Not really.  
  
Maybe a little less tense, though, if he’s lucky.  


* * *

  
  
At the end of the third month, Harry returns from an exceptionally grueling Potions lesson given by a man who makes Professor Snape’s teaching methods seem fair and reasonable in comparison.  
  
Malfoy is already in their room when he enters. “You look like something a Kneazle dragged in, Potter,” he says with a smirk.  
  
“Thanks. I feel loads better for knowing that.” Harry scoffs. “Anyway, I’m going to take a shower, get the vile stench of that potion off me.”  
  
When he gets back, a cup of steaming hot chamomile tea is standing on his bedside table. Harry gives his roommate a skeptical look. “Is that spiked or something?”  
  
“No,” Draco says, sounding almost offended. “I just thought you could do with one of those.”  
  
“Um, yeah. I could, actually. Thanks.”  
  
“Don’t mention it.” Draco shrugs and turns his full attention back to his book.  


* * *

 

_The Grimholt Beltane Ball._  
  
Harry didn’t expect there to be a Dance, not here, but what did he know? Perhaps he should have actually read some of those glossy brochures Hermione kept Owling him.  
  
“That blonde Beauxbatons graduate seems rather eager to make your acquaintance, Potter,” Malfoy informs him with a meaningful grin. “She asked me about you again just now.”  
  
“Thanks, but no thanks,” Harry says, shaking his head in amusement. “She isn’t exactly my type.”  
  
“I see,” Draco says dryly and raises a questioning eyebrow.  
  
Not willing to discuss the girl further, Harry changes the subject. “How’s Pansy Parkinson doing these days?”    
  
Not that he expects much of an answer, but he remembers Parkinson and Malfoy used to date - or something - when they were all still at school, and he hasn’t failed to notice she hasn’t written, not even once, since they first arrived here, so Harry’s quite confident the two of them are no longer together.  
  
And even if they are, well, the mention of Parkinson should still stop Malfoy from going on about the Beauxbatons girl. In that case, he can just brag about his girlfriend instead.  
  
“Pansy Parkinson is Mrs Goyle now,” Draco says simply. “She and Gregory were married two summers ago.”  
  
“What?” Harry blinks. “She- _What?_ Goyle?”  
  
“They’ve been together since fifth year, so it was about time, wouldn’t you say?”  
  
“Bloody hell.”  
  
Draco laughs. “Their relationship was one of Slytherin’s best kept secrets,” he says, looking entirely too smug. “Incidentally, whatever happened to Jenny Weasley? Weren’t the two of you attached at the hip when I-” He trails off awkwardly, clearly stuck when it comes to putting his swift departure with Snape into words.  
  
“Ginny,” Harry corrects him.  
  
“Right. Of course. Do pardon me for not knowing each and every Weasley by name.”  
  
“We were going to get back together after the war, but-“ Harry shrugs. “Things change and people move on, I suppose. Honestly, I’m not sure I even liked her all that much… I mean, I was very fond of her, and I thought she was beautiful, but getting together with Ginny felt like doing what I was supposed to, what…”  
  
“What everyone else expected from you?”  
  
Harry nods, not sure why he’s sharing this with Malfoy, of all people. He hasn’t even told Ron or Hermione this much, just that he and Ginny grew apart. And Ginny’s happy now anyway. She and Neville are expecting their second child, so it’s not as if the brief relationship he once had with her still matters today. Life goes on, doesn’t it?  
  
“I assume Granger and Ronald Weasley hooked up in the end?”  
  
Harry nods. “That obvious, were they?” he asks with a grin.  
  
“Oh yes.”  
  
Harry can’t help but laugh, and he wonders if, maybe, Malfoy’s not so bad once you get used to him. “So,” Harry says. "What do you plan to do about the Beltane Ball?”  
  
Draco shrugs. “Maybe I’ll just stay here and catch up on my reading. I can’t say some kind of party holds much appeal for me at this point.”  
  
Genuinely surprised, Harry frowns.  


* * *

  
  
He walks into the room, throws his book down on his bed and sighs deeply.  
  
“What’s the matter, Potter? More commotions in Potions?”  
  
“No.” Harry shrugs. “I’m just kind of bored.”  
  
Draco puts down his quill, ignoring his essay for a moment. “What did you do at Hogwarts to pass the time when you weren’t sneaking around or getting into trouble or fighting with me?”  
  
“Well... I used to go flying, for one thing.”  
  
“You can still do that, though, can’t you?” Draco points out. “It’s allowed. It says so in the school rules; in five different languages, no less.”  
  
“Yeah, but... It’s not much fun on your own. Unless you want to be alone, of course, but I don’t really need that kind of solitude anymore. It gets... er... lonely, I suppose.” Harry bites his lip, almost unable to believe he just admitted something that personal to Malfoy.  
  
“I’m sure you could find someone to accompany you, being who you are.”  
  
Harry shakes his head. “In case you hadn’t already noticed, I’m not much of a celebrity around here.”  
  
Draco frowns, and thinks that over for a few moments. “No,” he finally says. “You’re right. You’re not. I guess it wasn’t really their war, was it?“  
  
Harry shakes his head again. “Not that I’m complaining, though,” he adds quickly.  
  
“Here’s a thought,” Draco suggests, and there’s a mischievous glint in his eyes. “How about you and I go to the Dance together?"  
  
"What?” Harry laughs. “That’s one of the daftest things I’ve ever heard in my life. Are you seriously asking me to be your date?”  
  
“I might be.” Draco crosses his arms. ”Why? Scared, Potter?”  
  
“Bloody hell. Don’t start _that_ again.” Harry rolls his eyes. “And all right! You’re on.”  
  
“Good,” Draco says. He smirks smugly and gets back to his paper.  
  
Meanwhile, Harry suspects he may have lost his marbles, and it’s not entirely impossible the same can be said for Malfoy as well.  


* * *

  
  
"You two make such a dashing couple,” a girl tells them as they walk into the Ballroom together.  
  
"We're not a cou-" Harry starts to protest, but she’s already too far away to still be able to hear him.  
  
After some hesitation, because even after all these years, he still has two left feet when it comes to pretty much everything that isn't Quidditch, Harry allows Draco to lead him to the dance floor.  
  
They embrace and start to move, slowly.  
  
No one pays them any attention and while Harry is very relieved about that, at the same time he also finds it rather peculiar.  
  
Back at Hogwarts, Blaise and Seamus kept their relationship hidden at all costs because any gossip, especially from the Slytherin side, could have done them a lot of damage otherwise.  
  
Around here, however, no one seems to be shocked or even care about same sex couples.  
  
Not that he and Dra- Malfoy are actually a couple, of course.  
  
Though Harry suddenly finds himself wondering what it would be like if they were.  
  
Being in Malfoy’s arms just feels inexplicably _right_ , and Malfoy smells so sweet, it’s almost intoxicating.  
  
Not to mention that Malfoy’s no longer the spoiled, insufferable brat he was when they were teenagers.  
  
Actually, Harry hasn’t failed to notice that Malfoy is pretty pleasant company once you look past the arrogance. He has a fantastic dry sense of humor too.  
  
Harry supposes it’s odd he never noticed any of that before. Then again, he did have a lot of other things to worry about at the time. And the two of them were opposites on so many levels too, or so he assumed.  
  
Harry swallows hard.  
  
He’s not terribly surprised to find himself attracted to another bloke. After all, he did some experimenting with Charlie Weasley during the war, and he can’t say he didn’t enjoy it, but at the end of the day, their fling couldn’t last, of course, or evolve into something more solid.  
  
Charlie was too much like a brother to Harry, for one thing, and aside from that, back then, there was Ginny to consider as well. Harry didn’t want to hurt the girl’s feelings all over again. The blow of their sudden break-up, a few months prior, had been hard enough on her.  
  
Harry shivers. No, truly, his attraction to someone of the same gender is no surprise, but still- _Malfoy_ , of all people, shouldn’t feel this good.  
  
He looks up at his roommate and smiles.  
  
Their eyes meet. Draco smiles back, and Harry’s sure he can feel his heart flutter.  
  
_Well. Shit._  


* * *

  
  
Much later that night, they return to their room.  
  
Harry feels mildly giddy from dancing, laughing and being close to someone he likes being close to. He can barely remember the last time he had this much fun.  
  
The door opens and as he staggers into the room, Harry almost trips over the trainers he left by his bed earlier. Draco grabs him by the arm just in time. “Careful there, Harry,” he says softly.  
  
A little startled at hearing his given name, and whispered like _that_ , Harry gives Draco a questioning look.  
  
Their gazes lock, time stands still and Harry sees flashes of Quidditch and Hogwarts, and two small boys with a lantern in a scary dark forest, and much later, a horrible night in a bathroom tainted with blood and regret, and isn’t it funny how life goes sometimes?  
  
He’s abruptly pulled from his reverie when Draco says something like “Sod it,” though that doesn’t sound at all like something Malfoy would say, and the next thing Harry knows, he’s being pushed down onto the nearest bed (his own), and Malfoy is crawling on top of him.  
  
Harry opens his mouth to say something, anything, to express his surprise, but there is no time for words because Draco whispers, “I want you so much,” and captures Harry’s lips in an eager kiss.  
  
Harry’s head is spinning and all he can think is that he wants this too. More than he has ever wanted anything in his entire life.  
  
He kisses Draco back hungrily, in a way he hasn’t kissed anyone in years (or possibly ever?), and he runs his fingers through blond hair that’s silky soft and smells so utterly wonderful.  
  
Draco shifts a little, until Harry can feel it, an unmistakable hardness pressing into his groin. He experimentally thrusts his hips upwards and the sensation this causes, even through layers of clothing, sends delightful shivers up and down his spine.  
  
Draco moans. He reaches a hand down to undo Harry’s zipper. “I want to feel you,” he whispers. “May I?”  
  
“Yes,” Harry says quickly. “Please.” He tugs at Draco’s trousers. “Can I… feel you too?”  
  
Draco chuckles. “I suppose that would be only fair.”  
  
Harry inhales sharply when he feels Draco’s fingers on his cock. They’re warm and soft and they’re moving up and down slowly, almost teasingly. Harry moans. He reaches up a hand and frees Draco’s dick too. It's warm in his hand. He starts to stroke it, and then his breath is taken away once more when Draco kisses him again; countless intense, exquisite kisses.  
  
Harry closes his eyes and throws his head back.  
  
It’s been too long since anyone touched him like this, and he’s tired and a little drunk, so he’s bound not to last long, especially with the way Malfoy’s moving on top of him, faster and more urgently, which is almost like- Would it be like this if they actually…?  
  
“Help me rub them against each other,” Draco says, sounding a little breathless.  
  
Harry does, and it’s amazing, their cocks sliding against one another, causing the most delicious friction. He wonders if Draco has ever done anything like this before. But this isn’t the time to ask or even to talk at all.  
  
As if by some unspoken agreement, they both pick up the pace.  
  
Soon, the room is filled with sighs of pleasure , ragged breathing and instructions of “Yes, right _there_ ,” and moans of “Oh… god.”  
  
Harry never wants it to end, but then it does, far too soon. He moans deeply, tightens his grip on Draco’s shoulder, and he comes.  
  
Draco isn’t far behind. “Harry,” he whispers brokenly. “You’re so-” The rest of the words are lost in a loud guttural moan as Draco climaxes, spilling himself all over Harry’s right hand.  
  
They lie there in silence for a while, Draco still on top of Harry, Harry absentmindedly running his left hand up and down Draco's arm.  
  
After what feels like forever and yet not by any means long enough, Draco moves first. He rolls off Harry and Accios his wand. “Let’s get rid of this mess,” he says and softly utters a cleaning spell.  
  
“Thanks,” Harry whispers. He scoots closer again and buries his face in the crook of Draco’s neck, feeling a little shy all of a sudden. "Are you going to sleep here tonight?” he asks in a voice that’s barely a whisper.  
  
"Well, this is my room. Where else am I supposed to sleep?”  
  
"No. Um, what I meant was-"  
  
"You’d like me to sleep here, in your bed, with you?”  
  
“ _Yes._ ”  
  
“All right. Why not?”  
  
Harry smiles. He takes off his glasses and puts them on the bedside table. He kisses Draco on the cheek and snuggles close to him, as close as he possibly can.  
  
Draco grins. It’s on the tip of his tongue to say something sharp and mildly amusing about how cuddling is for _girls_ , but he decides against it in the end, because he really doesn’t want to ruin the mood. He doesn’t even feel inclined to get changed, or at least take off his formal attire, which will be all crinkled and feel very uncomfortable by morning.  
  
Truthfully, he doesn’t want to move at all, because lying here like this, with Harry Potter wrapped around him, feels absolutely wonderful, and he wouldn’t want to miss even one second of it, not for anything in the world.  
  
"Sweet dreams, Potter," Draco whispers, briefly ruffling his bed partner’s hair.  
  
"Hm," Harry murmurs. “Goodnight, Draco.” He closes his eyes and promptly drifts off to sleep, feeling happy, cherished and _alive_.  


* * *

  
  
When Harry wakes up again, it’s to the sound of running water.  
  
Not before long, Draco re-emerges from the bathroom. He has the smuggest of grins plastered on his pale face that seems to have a little more colour than usual.  
  
In fact, his expression could almost be described as victorious, and Harry isn’t quite sure what to make of that. “Are we together now?” he blurts out urgently, suddenly feeling kind of worried and very much in need of some reassurance.  
  
“Good morning to you too,” Draco says with a smile. He’s dressed in black trousers and a green turtleneck pullover and to Harry’s eyes, he has never looked more gorgeous. “And such a Gryffindor thing to throw at a person before breakfast as well. Some things never change..."  
  
“Just answer the bloody question, Malfoy,” Harry snaps. “Did last night actually mean something to you, or was it just a casual thing?”  
  
Slowly, Draco walks over to the bed. “You’re a complete idiot, Potter,” he says with a smirk, “if you assume that with a history such as ours, anything between the two of us could ever be _casual_ again.”  
  
In an instant, Harry’s worried frown vanishes, only to be replaced by a happy, relieved smile. He leaps up, throws his arms around Draco and pulls the stunned young man into a tight embrace.  
  
“All right, Potter.” Draco chuckles. “Why don't you take a shower, and then we can go downstairs for a bite to eat? And if you’d like, we can go flying later too. It doesn’t look like rain today.”  
  
Harry pulls back slightly. He nods, and his smile grows even wider; Draco _remembers_.  


* * *

  
  
They lie next to each other on the grass, feeling slightly exhilarated and quite warm, despite the weather that has turned out much more chilly than they expected.  
  
Harry reaches out, takes Draco's hand and sighs contentedly. It’s been ages since he last felt this lightheaded and happy.  
  
"Why didn't we do this much sooner?" he asks, not really referring to the past two hours they spent soaring through the skies.  
  
Draco smiles. "Possibly because we were too busy hating each other to consider any other options. Or we just needed a few years apart, so we could grow up a bit."  
  
"Finally grew up, did you, Malfoy?" Harry chuckles. He pulls Draco closer for a lingering kiss, and another. "What are you doing for the Summer Hols?" he asks softly.  
  
"I’ll probably spend it at the Manor. Unless you have a better idea? You know, I’d gladly invite you, but-"  
  
“Your mum wouldn’t approve?”  
  
Draco smiles. “I don’t think Mother would mind at all. I’m more worried about that new husband of hers.”  
  
Harry’s eyes widen. “What? New husband?”  
  
"That's right. Mother remarried last autumn.” Draco laughs. “Why, you really _have_ been out of the loop, haven’t you, Potter?”  
  
Harry shrugs. It’s true enough. He spent the past few years living like a hermit, and he only applied to study here because Hermione thought it would do him a world of good to be amongst people again.  
  
She was right of course, as always, though he’s sure Draco isn't one of the people she had in mind.  
  
"I've avoided most of the wizarding world completely since I left Hogwarts, and the few friends I did keep in touch with didn't tell me much,” Harry finally says. “I guess they understood, or even if they didn’t, they respected my decision at least.”  
  
"In that case..." Draco smirks. “Brace yourself, Potter. She’s married to Severus now."  
  
"Sever- You don’t mean _Snape_ , do you?!" Harry exclaims, deeply horrified at the idea.  
  
"The one and only,” Draco says with a soft chuckle. “He makes an excellent stepfather, however. You’d be surprised.”  
  
"Oh God."  
  
"I wonder how he’ll react when he learns about my new boyfriend, though,” Draco muses. “You could come over for lunch one day for the official introduction, if you’d like. Or dinner. Or a sleepover, even." He waggles his eyebrows suggestively.  
  
At that, Harry bursts out laughing, in that same unguarded way he’s been laughing quite often lately.  
  
"You know, Malfoy,” he says, before kissing Draco again, “I might just take you up on that offer."

 


End file.
